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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600190">(handhold)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd'>fleaflofloyd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call the Midwife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:47:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a one-shot written for the twitter prompt: Val and Lucille fall asleep holding hands. </p><p>Set during ep 9X04, when the four doctors come to stay at Nonnatus.</p><p>Posted on twitter a few weeks ago.</p><p>Not a part of my 'I never thought..." universe.</p><p>------------------------</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(handhold)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>She's back to her army training days. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Or at least that's what it feels like. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie huffs to herself and shifts onto her side on the camp bed, the joints of metal signalling her every move. The thin mattress is doing nothing to protect her from the hard angles of the frame, her mind recalling the wooden cots at the barracks, and how she'd woken up in the early days to an aching back, before routine and long hours had exhausted her enough to not care about comfort. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She sighs again and opens her eyes. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille is awake, peering at her. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie watches as she blinks and briefly looks away, before slowly pulling her eyes back to Val. There's a hint of embarrassment there, like she's done something wrong, and Valerie can see her shutting it down, looking for something else to concentrate on. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I imagine you're regretting giving Phyllis your bed right about now." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's a whisper, spoken gently into the darkness. Valerie lets herself marvel at how comforting that Jamaican lilt of hers is. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She could hear that for the rest--</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She shuts down the thought before it blossoms any further. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She'd be a bear with a sore head on this. Or sore back, I suppose." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille smiles again, sinking further into her pillow, amusement appearing in her eyes. She mouths <em>the worst</em> at Valerie, and chuckles at her own words. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie smiles along with her. At her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The silence settles over them for a few moments, neither of them looking away. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>When it becomes too much for Val to take, she asks quickly, "What's keeping you up, chick?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know..." Lucille pauses, sighing. "The shadows are different in here. Your clock ticks a little louder than Phyllis's. I'm a light sleeper anyway, so..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie recalls Scotland, and how they'd managed to get some shut-eye in the lighthouse bungalow after the birth and unexpected appendectomy. The wind had howled, and Valerie knows she'd snored, the combination making Lucille sluggish that next morning. She'd apologised for her part, and Lucille had brushed it off kindly, saying it was nothing to worry about. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've been snoring, haven't I?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille's lips turn up. "Just a little."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're underplaying it, aren't you?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille smiles more, and nods. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're welcome to whack me--" Valerie extends her arm and taps Lucille's pillow "--with this if I start up again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille takes her hand suddenly, a light grip easing it away from the pillow. She settles their joined hands on Lucille's mattress between them, Valerie feeling her heart quicken in the darkness. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How 'bout I just squeeze your hand instead?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Val finds her voice eventually. "I'm not sure that will be a strong enough deter--" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille tightens her grip, harsh and relentless against Val's fingers, like a vice. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ow, ow, I stand corrected." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The vice loosens. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Think you broke my fingers," Val says lightly, laughter on her tongue. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, hush, you two," Trixie tells them quickly, "some of us are trying to sleep." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The request makes Lucille giggle, Valerie joining her, their amusement fuelling each other further. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You are both far too old for giggling shenanigans." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It only makes them laugh harder. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie knows they need to calm down though. She lets her humour subside, Lucille following her lead, still holding her gaze in the darkness. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Sorry, Trix," Valerie says as she wipes at the remainder of her happy tears.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There's a soft tisk from Trixie's bed, and then all Valerie can hear is the ticking of her clock. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille is looking at her with a crinkle to her eyes, as if to say, <em>See? I told you it was louder... </em></p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Valerie squeezes her hand, agreeing. She concentrates on the rhythmic consistency of it, feeling her eyes droop slowly, then close for the night. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lucille continues her quiet observation, content to take her in quietly, unobstructed once again. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Her thumb grazes back and forth over skin. Feather-light, the steady pace calms Lucille's mind, until she herself is lost to the night. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
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